


it goes something like this

by acceptnosubstitutes



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, M/M, Relationship Issues, mistaken crushes, surrogate big brother/little brother relationship, unmitigated angst shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2065608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/acceptnosubstitutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Jimmy talks to just about everyone about his crush on Ben, including Ben himself, until he figures out who he should have talked to first all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. side a

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, side a/b are just two takes on how [a prompt](http://moonstonerose.tumblr.com/post/92168218294/nikolagriffin-i-saw-someone-write-a-if-i-was-a) could play out. Moon's way: side a. Mine: side b.
> 
> One of these is happier than the other. You've been warned ~

Jimmy waits until Weaver’s done giving orders and most people have filed out of the old classroom serving as commander’s base. Weaver looks a little weird (a little funny, but don’t tell anyone) sitting behind the teacher’s desk. Like some kind of angry, vaguely bear-ish teacher from hell.

Jimmy suppresses a snort of laughter, which, naturally, attracts Weaver’s attention.

“Something I can help you with, Jimmy?”

He brought it up.

So Jimmy jumps up on one of the desks and kicks his feet back and forth.

“I have a, a problem.”

Weaver raises a grizzled eyebrow, a silent ‘go on’ that Jimmy also finds hard to ignore. He bites his lip.

“I, I think I like someone? Only I don’t know?”

Weaver frowns, steeples his hands and looks up at the ceiling briefly, like he might be praying for something. Patience, maybe. It’s just a thought, but Jimmy doesn’t think Weaver’s much of a relationship man.

Unless his partner is as grizzled, angry, and stubborn as he is, Jimmy supposes. Wonders if there’s even anyone out there like that.

“Well,” Weaver says, obviously struggling, “does this person like you back?”

“That’s just it! Half the time, I think, maybe? But then, this person, smiles at this other person and -” Jimmy trails off, throwing up his hands in disgust.

The minute Jimmy notices Weaver’s gone quiet, he knows he said the wrong thing. The thing about Weaver, see, is that he deals with problems one of two ways. One, they end up dead. Two…

“Tell me their name,” Weaver says, or growls, really, “and _I’ll talk to them >.”_

He “talks” to them. Thus, they end up dead. But quieter.

“What? No! No, no it’s fine. Really.”

And Jimmy doesn’t run out of the room. No. He just walks. Rapidly.  
-

Maggie, Jimmy finds outside practicing her aim. Or, the perfect position to shoot Pope where it hurts. So, practicing her aim.

She holsters her pistol when he comes over.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I think I like someone,” Jimmy blurts out. Groans inwardly. _Smooth_.

“Ah,” Maggie says, grins, “so who’s the lucky girl?”

Oh. That’s a problem Jimmy hadn’t thought about. Everyone _would_ assume “I like someone” meant “I like a girl” wouldn’t they? Oh.

He feels his cheeks heat up, and curses himself. It’s just a word!

“Uh.”

Clearly one he can’t get out.

Maggie chuckles. “You don’t have to tell. But let me guess, don’t know what to say?”

Jimmy brightens. Maggie has experience with this sort of thing. Surely…

“Go direct,” Maggie says, “and kiss the shit out of her.”

Jimmy blinks. Wha-

“S’how me and Hal did it.”

Maggie shrugs, watching Jimmy leave with his head hung low. His loss.  
-

“Hey Jimmy,” Hal says, when he looks up and notices Jimmy coming his way, “what’s up?”

It’s all he gets out before Jimmy rears back, deer-in-the-headlights look all across his face. He flees in the other direction, almost tripping over himself in the process.

Hal frowns. “Was it something I said?”

Anthony just shrugs.  
-

In the infirmary, there for some scratch or something Jimmy wasn’t worried about, but that Weaver zeroed in on the bleeding and, well, but the point is, there’s Anne.

“Maybe you should try writing it out,” Anne suggests.

And. It’s a great idea actually. So Jimmy asks her for a pen, some paper, and settles down out of the hustle and bustle to translate his thoughts to paper.

It goes like this.

_Hi. So, I like you. Like, like you. Not as a friend. But I like you as a friend too, just, more than that. I mean. And, I don’t know how to tell you. So. Well, I’m telling you now. I like you._

Jimmy thumps his head against the table, groaning pitifully. He folds the paper up and pushes it to the side, dispirited. There has to be an easier way to do this.

But when Ben comes in looking for him and practically drags him out of the infirmary with a boyish laugh at his grumbling, Jimmy forgets to take the letter with him.

But, oh well, right? What can it harm?

Later that night, when Anne’s cleaning up after another long day, she pauses over one stack of paper. On top there’s a folded piece of paper, addressed to no one. But it’s left where Lourdes usually starts out her mornings and Anne bites her lip, but picks it up and reads what it says.

“Here,” Anne says, slips the paper into Lourdes’ hands the next morning, hides her smile, “I think it’s for you.”

By the time Lourdes corners Jimmy, and explains, in one of the most embarrassing conversations he’s ever had, that it’s sweet he has a crush on her but she’s with Jamil, now, Jimmy’s forgotten all about that exercise in futility.

He won’t forget Ben bursting into laughter so hard he cries, once she’s far enough away she probably doesn’t hear it. Oh, not for a long while.  
-

Clearly asking for advice was a mistake on his part, so Jimmy decides to just do it. Just man up and tell Ben. About things.

He’s just not so sure how to start that conversation, that’s all.

He waits until they’re alone, out on patrol. With nothing but the crickets and the overhead shimmer of moonlight around them.

“Hey, Ben. I need to tell you something.”

Ben nods. “Okay. Shoot.”

Ha, right. Just. Talk. That’s it. That’s all you have to do, Jimmy.

It’s that easy.

Only Jimmy has no idea where to begin. Every few minutes or so, Jimmy feels Ben’s eyes on him, expectant. But every time he thinks to say “I like you, a lot” Jimmy opens his mouth and something else entirely comes out.

Like,

“That was a good kill, last battle.”

“Hey, when do you think we’ll get to Charleston?”

“Do Maggie and Hal _have_ to touch that much?”

“Dude, Superman is way better, way, better, than Batman.”

And then they’re back at camp. Well.

“Good talk,” Ben shouts at his back, while Jimmy scurries off.

He sounds, understandably, a little confused.  
-

He’s hopeless. Jimmy just has to accept that, and move on.

So that means tagging along after Dai, because any other adult eventually gets pissed off at him, visibly, or not. The kind ones let him down gently. The not so kind ones tell him to fuck off, literally.

He gets it, really. He’s a fourteen year-old, with a gun. Probably only still has it ‘cause Weaver’s soft on him. Yeah, it’s not escaped Jimmy’s notice.

No one takes him seriously. Except Dai.

So even if he can only watch, or fetch things, Jimmy’s quite happy. Just wants to be needed. Wanted.

But, maybe, this thing with Ben gets to him more than he realizes, because one day Dai pauses, glances at him with an amused hum.

“Something up, Jimmy?”

They’re walking the perimeter, which has been quiet the past few days. Still, Weaver’s paranoid, and Dai picks up on that.

Jimmy bites at his lip, thinking. Eventually he looks up at Dai. “Can I, can I talk to you about something?”

Gets a smile in return. “Always.”

Okay.

“Okay, so, I think I like someone. Only,” and Jimmy has to take a deep breath, before he can continue, “only everyone thinks it’s a girl. And, it’s not.”

He lets a pause stretch between them until it’s too much, and Jimmy can’t help but glance over, certain it’s going to be disgust or at the very least, a frown. But when Dai meets his eyes, it’s only a mild questioning glance.

“You don’t think it’s. Like, weird. Or anything?” Jimmy should really stop while he’s ahead, but seriously.

Every time he’s ever even heard someone mention, _that_ , it’s been with crinkled noses and these mocking, side glances. It’s what he’s come to expect.

Dai just hums again. Leans in, almost conspiratorially close, and says, “Well, make me a bit of a hypocrite. If I did.”

Jimmy blinks. Oh. _Oh_.

Okay.

A smile tugs at his lips, and he lets it grow wide. Why didn’t he think to start here, anyway?

“Well, he’s kind of a jerk, first off. I mean, he thinks Batman is better than Superman. The nerve!”

It is, sort of, the easiest thing Jimmy’s ever done. Well, eventually.


	2. side b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was there for Jimmy then, always, and he still is. Just, in a different way.

It rained heavy the night before, and the ground’s still damp, but Jimmy doesn’t mind. He sits down. Is quiet a while. Fidgets.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits. Sounds like he’s choking.

Jimmy bites it back. Bites his lip until the awful prickling at his eyes backs off.

“I should’ve said something, you know? Earlier. It’s just. It’s just _hard_. Okay. I never even had a girlfriend before the aliens struck, much less.”

He trails off. Groans. Can’t even say _boyfriend_ , either. Jimmy plucks at a few strands of grass.

“I keep trying to imagine how you’d do it. Tell someone you liked them.”

Smiles a rueful smile, can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s kind of hard to picture. But you’d probably just say it, right? No big deal. Like, like it was easy. Always made everything look so easy.”

Jimmy bites at his lip harder, worrying it under his teeth.

“And now, now there’s Denny. I tried so hard to hate her. Did, for a while. But she’s infectious. You can’t hate Denny.”

“She’s just,” a sigh, and a whole handful of grass flies up, “she’s just like him.”

“Maybe I should stay out of it. He’s never given me a hint. One way or the other. I don’t want to lose that. Him.”

Jimmy sighs, long and low, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing. It’s probably how Denny creeps up on him unnoticed. She pounces, he yelps, and they roll around on the ground a mess of limbs until Denny fights her way out on top and Jimmy spits out grass to the side.

He glares at her. She just giggles.

“What’ca doing, Jim Jims?”

Jimmy groans. He hates that particular nickname almost as much as Ben hates Benji.

“I was just,” he starts, and then trails off.

Because what was he doing?

Denny clambers off him, offers a hand up.

“Come on,” she cajoles, grabbing his hand, “this place is depressing.”

Jimmy lets her drag him off, because she’s right. And no matter how much it hurts, he’d never want to see Jimmy like that. Probably.

Still, he can’t help but glance back, at the scattered crosses set out like a whole other world away.

_Wish you were here, Dai_.


End file.
